French Lessons, Volume 5: Risk
by Fleur27
Summary: Julie and Tim have getting to know each other and getting closer to each other for the the last two years. Will one of them finally take a risk?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

**Author's Note: So, I started looking at my notes for Volume 5, the last of the series, and decided it's going to warrant multiple chapters. I swear I'm not just trying to drag this out. :)**

**This story starts shortly after Volume 4 left off. It's the summer between S3 and S4.  
**

**Thanks for the reviews, favorites, and support. It means so much to know that people are reading and enjoying the stories.**

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_**mid-July**_

Julie climbed on top of the lifeguard stand, settled down with the red rescue tube in her lap and looked out over the chaos that was the Dillon Community Pool. She spotted The Swede on the other side of the pool, standing on the walkway with his hands on his hips. She noticed him smile and wink at her, but she pretended she hadn't seen him.

The whole Anton thing was _so_ awkward now, she thought, rolling her eyes from behind the safety of her sunglasses. She'd avoided any discomfort the prior summer, since he hadn't worked at the pool. The rumor was that he'd been touring with his band, but Julie wasn't sure how much of that she believed.

Two years had passed since her Summer of Swede-Induced Stupidity, as she privately called it, and he hadn't changed much at all. Still constantly needed a shave and a shower, still shared a crappy duplex with guys that had names like Banksie and Jonesy, still drove a falling-to-pieces van. It all made Julie wonder what the hell she'd been thinking.

She could see Anton moving along the other side of the pool and she sincerely hoped he wasn't headed in her direction. She tried to avoid him as much as possible and hated when he was able to corner her when she was up in the chair. Sighing, she tried to look on the bright side. Or at least, think of something worse, to put it all in perspective. It could be worse.....he could be her boss.

Julie let her eyes travel across the pool, over the swimmers, looking for anyone in potential trouble or any breaches of the swimming pool rules. Most days, she just felt like a glorified babysitter who happened to know CPR. Not that she was complaining about the boredom. She knew from the terrifying experience of having to save someone last year that there was definitely such a thing as too exciting.

The pool was fairly full, mostly with teenagers and kids, splashing and messing around. The serious swimmers, the middle-aged moms and retired people, tended to come in the early mornings to take advantage of the lap swimming times. You'd have to be either foolish, stubborn or ridiculously patient to try to swim laps during an afternoon open swim.

So Julie was surprised to see a guy trying to swim laps, on one of the busier days of the season so far. The guy was good at swimming, his arms keeping an even rhythm and his form was disciplined. She'd lost track of the number of people she'd seen who picked their heads up to breath during the crawl stroke. It drove her nuts, in fact, and was a big part of the reason she didn't teach swimming lessons any more. She didn't have the patience to repeatedly correct the same mistakes.

She kept half an eye on the lap swimmer, partly because he had nice arms and partly because he was at risk of either crashing into someone or getting crashed into. But he was elegant, graceful, and seemed to have good awareness of his surroundings. Julie decided to nickname him Fish Boy, since she was bored and any bit of novelty and amusement could make the time go that little bit quicker.

Julie's hour-long shift in the chair was nearly up when she noticed Fish Boy stop near the wall at the deep end of the pool. She watched him brace his hands on the pool ledge and waited to enjoy the show as he hefted himself out. It was shallow of her, she knew, but if he could swim like that, he had to have spectacular back and arm muscles.

As soon as Fish Boy was half out of the water, Julie realized he wasn't just some random guy. She'd actually been gawking at Tim Riggins all this time. She looked away, feeling mildly embarrassed, but then couldn't resist the urge to look back and watch him drying off his arms and chest.

_It's just like looking at art, remember_, she thought. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Hey, Julie, you can relax, your replacement has arrived," said Kevin, one of the new lifeguards. He was fifteen and lived in Barton. With his big feet, goofy grin, and persistent manner, he reminded Julie of a puppy that hadn't yet grown into himself.

Julie mumbled an appropriate response and climbed down. She decided she might as well walk over past Tim and say hello. She hadn't seen him much since school let out. Her father had been deadly serious about her being grounded for a long time after that whole English speech debacle. She'd missed all the end-of-year parties, all the graduation parties, and the Fourth of July thing at the lake. About the only thing she'd been allowed to go to was Matt's graduation party and that was just because her mother had lobbied hard on her behalf.

"Hi, Tim," said Julie as she walked up behind him.

"Taylor," he said, giving her a lazy smile as he squinted into the sun. He had the slightly raccoon-eyed look that can come from wearing goggles too long.

"Um, what are you doing here?" asked Julie, kicking herself as heard the dumb question hanging in the air. She was going to attribute the decrease in her conversational skills to the fact that she'd been out in the sun most of the day. That was definitely the problem. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she was eye-level with Tim's bare chest.

"Well, Taylor. It'sJuly, we're in Texas and this is the public pool....should be obvious."

Julie felt flustered but tried to press on. "No, I mean why were you trying to swim laps....during open swim?"

"Oh. I just finished physical therapy on my shoulder, and the guy said I should try swimming."

"Okay," said Julie, nodding. "But don't you have your own pool?"

"Yeah, but Billy won't fill it and it doesn't really matter because I moved out."

"For real?"

"Yeah. I moved in with Herc. It's a pretty good deal because he's traveling a lot with rugby."

"Herc. Wow. That's got to be interesting."

"You have no idea," said Tim with a grin. "But like I said, he's gone a lot, so it's almost like having my own place, most of the time at least."

Julie pushed her bangs off her forehead and then looked up at Tim. "Look, it's going to be awfully crowded and it'll be hard for you to swim laps unless you come early in the morning....which I know isn't going to happen. So why don't you come to after-hours?"

"After-hours? What is that, like some secret lifeguard thing?"

"Sort of, yeah. I work Tuesday through Saturday, and we close the pool at 8.30, but then usually stay for an hour or two, depending on who's around."

"Isn't it dark by then?"

"Yeah, Tim, but we do have lights. You know? They do a great job keeping the dark away," said Julie. "Why don't you come by tomorrow night as my guest?"

"Taylor, that's really sweet of you, but I don't know, you probably got someone better to ask, like maybe Seven?"

"No, Matt's the manager now for the closing shift at the Alamo Freeze, so he wouldn't be able to."

Tim's eyes narrowed and zeroed in on a spot past Julie's right shoulder. "What about The Czech?"

"The Czech?" she asked, casually turning her head to the right. "Oh, The Swede. Honestly, you'd be doing me a favor. Maybe he'd leave me alone if I had a friend to hang out with."

Tim nodded, an expression of understanding settling onto his face. "Yeah, sure. As long as you're sure about it."

"I'm sure. Unless you're just trying to find a polite way to turn me down?"

Tim grinned. "When am I ever polite, Taylor?"

"Good point. I'll see you tomorrow tonight then," said Julie, lightly touching his arm before she turned to walk back to the pool's office.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

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_**early-August**_

**Tim turned on the speed, even as his shoulder complained. He couldn't help it.. He was competitive and he especially didn't want to lose to a girl. He hit the wall and looked up at Julie, who was acting as the referee.**

"**Amanda wins!" said Julie, grinning at her fellow lifeguard. "Don't feel bad though, Tim, it was really close."**

**Tim rested his arms on the edge of the pool and tried to catch his breath.**

"**Thanks for the race," said Amanda, who was barely out of breath. She readjusted her goggles and then glided off toward the far end of the pool.**

**Julie slipped into the water. She kept a hand on the wall as she tread water. Tim turned to face her. **

**He wondered sometimes if she didn't have something better to do than to hang out with him while he swam. But then, he figured that with Seven working until late every night, maybe she was just a little lonely and bored. He could get that, since he was finding it hard to adjust to being alone so much when Herc was gone for rugby training camps and matches. **

"**You know, you probably shouldn't challenge an NCAA swimmer to race you," said Julie **

"**Yeah, well, I thought you said I was close. I can beat her next time."**

"**Problem is, I don't think she was swimming as fast as she can. She kinda likes you, you know?" said Julie in a conspiratorial whisper.**

**Tim rolled his eyes "You're always telling stories, Taylor."**

"**No, really....You should ask her out."**

**Tim shook his head and changed the subject. "You narrow down your college choices any yet?"**

**Julie gave him a look that let him know she had noticed his subject change but was going to let it slide. "Well, UT Austin, that's my safe school, of course. Then, I don't know. I hate making decisions."**

**Tim nodded and waited for her to continue.**

"**Like Oberlin – great school, very liberal, decent programs, but it's in a small town and I think I'm kind of done with small towns. Northwestern – they have a great journalism school and it's in a suburb of Chicago, so maybe that wouldn't be as intimidating as trying to jump to a big city...."**

"**But they're still not exactly what you want?" asked Tim.**

**Julie shook her head. "No. I really want Columbia....New York City, awesome journalism program, decent French program, the opportunity to study for a year in Paris. That's my dream school. I'm just not sure I can get in there."**

**Tim debated a few things he could say, but they all sounded too cheesy. (**_**I have faith in you, Taylor... It's their loss if they don't take you...I'm sure you'll get in.**_**) **

"**So, you want to be a journalist then?" he asked. **

**She groaned. "See, that's another decision I'll need to make. I'm torn between being a journalist and being a French translator/interpreter."**

"**An interpreter, huh? So you'd get paid to talk for a living?" The night air was getting chillier and Tim let go of the wall so he could sink down, leaving just his head above the water line.**

"**It's more than just talking. It's bridging a gap....creating a way for people from different cultures and languages to really understand each other." As Julie spoke, her whole face became animated and her voice took on the tones it did when she passionately believed in something.**

"**I wish I had an interpreter," said Tim, smiling.**

**Julie laughed. "For when? It's not like you travel internationally." **

"**For every day. Just ordinary things."**

"**Tim, you do speak English, you know?" Julie's smiled, slightly bewildered.**

**Tim shook his head. "I don't know. Sometimes, it seems like the words that I say aren't the words that I had in my head at all."**

**Julie frowned and her forehead wrinkled with confusion. "I'm not sure I understand, can you give me an example?"**

**Tim sighed and rubbed his face as he thought about it. The first example that came to him was something he'd never talked to about with anyone. He looked at Julie, her face open and encouraging. **

"**OK," he said quietly, lowering his voice so she had to move closer to be able to hear him. He took a deep breath and began to tell her about the time he went to Lyla's church and felt a new, scary, different feeling. When he talked to Lyla about it, things seemed to be going well, she seemed to understand what he was saying.**

"**I don't know, Taylor, I was standing there and she hugged me and was holding my hand and it all just seemed so natural to kiss her. Only she asked me what I was doing. And I told her that I felt closer to God when I was with her....Didn't go over real well, I guess you could say. She thought it was some kinda line."**

**Tim looked up at Julie, half-expecting to find her laughing or at least grinning at him. Her expression was serious, though, like she understood what it took for him to talk about this.**

"**So, what you think, Taylor, could you have interpreted that for me? Or was it just a line?"**

**Julie closed her eyes and was silent for several seconds. Then, she started to speak haltingly. "Going to her church, being with her.....it made you feel whole....better....part of something.....alive. It wasn't God, exactly, because you're not even sure you believe in God. But you just know that you felt part of something outside yourself and that you were able to feel good in that.....It wasn't a line. You were just trying to say something that's probably completely impossible to put into words."**

**Tim felt like she'd reached inside of him, opened his soul and read it like a book. Julie opened her eyes and looked at him expectantly, like she was waiting for a grade.**

"**Not too shabby, Taylor. I don't know if that translation would have passed at the UN or whatever, but that wasn't too bad."**

**Julie shrugged and looked down, a small, pleased smile on her face. Tim wanted to reach out, tilt her chin up and kiss the lips that had just spoken his closest-held feelings. **

**But he couldn't. He couldn't risk having it turn out like his moment had with Lyla. Instead, he lapped both hands down hard on the surface of the water, generating a small tidal wave that washed over Julie.**

"**You are so dead," spluttered Julie as she blinked her eyes and reached out blindly toward him.**

"**Yeah? You're going to have to catch me first," he said before pushing off the wall and swimming away.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

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_late-September_

"Good-bye, I'll be home by one," shouted Julie as she walked out the front door. She heard her mother tell her to have a nice time.

Julie walked over to Matt's car, opened the door, and tossed her jacket in the back seat. It was already dark and getting chilly, but Julie didn't want to ruin Matt's first impression of her outfit with a bulky jacket.

It was so rare that they got a night to go out. Everyone's schedules had to line up like the planets. Shelby had to be able to look after Grandma. Matt's days off at the weekends were rare. Julie couldn't stay out late on school nights and she was still working at Applebee's. Their lack of quality time made her spend extra time on her appearance.

She tried on six different outfits before settling on a swishy knee-length navy skirt, a tailored button-down blouse, and tan suede ankle boots. Her hair was curled and held back from her face with a clip. Seeing Matt's appreciative smile and feeling his eyes on her legs made it well worth the extra time.

"You look nice," he greeted her, leaning across the seat to give her quick kiss on the lips.

"Thanks," she said as she fastened her seatbelt. "How was work?"

"You know, the usual," he said. "Although today, we did have a little extra excitement. The ice cream machine broke."

Julie listened in amusement as Matt told the story. She thought it was funny but Matt was less amused at having to spend an hour cleaning ice cream off the ceiling.

"Anyway, that was my day. How was your day?" he asked, glancing over at her.

"Oh, you know, nothing as exciting as that. Mostly it was watching Gracie and studying SAT vocabulary words."

"Yeah? You going to break out a couple of those five-dollar words for me?"

Julie thought for a minute. "Through assiduous and diligent study, I hope to suppress my nerves and prove my sagacity by performing in an exemplary manner next week."

"Wow. That was pretty good."

"Well, I need at least a 2200 and you know I only got a 1900 last time," said Julie.

"You'll do fine. You're probably going to get at least a 750 in the writing part. Just relax."

"You're right....So, I was looking at Northwestern and did you know that there are two ways to get from Evanston to downtown Chicago without taking a bus or using a car?" Julie looked over at him, hoping he'd hear the unasked question.

"Yeah, huh?" asked Matt, steadfastly refusing to make eye contact with her.

Julie bit her lip and looked out the window into the darkness. She hated to press him, but he kept avoiding her questions on the subject. she starting to want some idea of where she should focus her energy. She'd definitely consider giving up Columbia for Northwestern if Matt was part of the package.

"You given any thought to what you're going to do next year?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice casual.

"Julie, I don't know and I'm not sure this is the time to talk about it," Matt replied.

"It's okay," she said quickly. "It's not a huge deal. I've just, you know, been thinking or wondering or whatever if I should focus my efforts on Northwestern, maybe even go for Early Decision. Especially if....you know....you plan on picking up your deferment at the Art Institute."

Matt sighed. "Julie, you should do whatever you want to do. Don't even think about what I might or might not end up doing."

"It was just a thought," said Julie. "I'll probably just end up at UT anyway, since they have to accept me and everything."

"Must be nice to have all these options," he said.

His bitter tone was like an unexpected slap in the face. She opened her mouth to make a smart reply, but decided against it. They spent so little time together, she didn't want to fight with him.

She turned her head to look out at the road in front of them just in time to see a minivan cut them off, a Baby On Board sign swinging in its rear window. Matt slammed on the brakes and automatically threw his arm across the front seat to protect Julie.

"Asshole," Matt hissed at the receding tail lights. When he spoke to Julie, his tone was quiet and concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, nodding as if to reassure herself. "I hate those Baby on Board signs. Everyone has people in their car that they care about. Just because your baby is precious to you, doesn't mean the rest of the world has to think so."

Matt chuckled and his lips quirked up into half a smile. "Besides, if you drive like that much of an asshole, your kid is probably going to be a major league jerk."

"Exactly," laughed Julie, relieved to feel the sour mood in the car dissipating. Hoping to make Matt laugh again, she continued. "You know what else I hate?"

"What?" he asked.

"Those guys who drive giant gas guzzling SUVs, like Expeditions or Hummers, who have 'I Support Our Troops' bumper stickers. Great, but maybe it you really did support them, you'd drive something that got more than 12 miles to a gallon and the troops wouldn't need to be in the Middle East."

Matt bristled. "You making fun of servicemen, now, Julie?"

"No," she replied, surprised. It was the sort of wry observation that Lois or Landry would have appreciated.

"Because I don't think that's very funny."

"No, no, Matt, I didn't mean it like that."

"My dad," he said, beginning to pick up steam, "He sure doesn't think that we're over there because of oil."

Julie twisted her fingers together in her lap and looked down at her hands. She recognized a no-win situation when she saw it.

"Matt, I didn't even mean it like that," she said softly. "And I think you know it."

He took a deep breath and let it out as a long-suffering sigh. "Julie, you know what, I am so sick of the way you're all smart and snarky all the time. You've just been so.....bitter lately."

Julie scoffed at his words. "I'm bitter? You think _I'm_ bitter? You have been wallowing in bitterness and self-pity for the last two months."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, ready to play the role of the aggrieved party.

Julie looked away from Matt and stared out the window for several beats. She could see their evening was already pretty much ruined. Maybe it was time to put her cards on the table.

"Matt, we both know we're not fighting over bumper stickers or my snark or anything else like that," she said, striving to keep her voice from going shrill, which was hard because her throat was getting dry and tight. "We're fighting because you made a decision that you regret and now you're angry and resentful. You keep taking it out on me and really, I'm sick of it."

She stole a look at Matt and the image reminded her of her father. His tightly clenched jaw had a muscle twitching so badly, she thought it might burst through his skin and run off on a murderous rampage.

"You know what, Julie, I have responsibilities that you can't understand. Don't you dare look into my life from the outside and tell me what I resent or don't resent. You've got two parents who would do anything for you and have always, _always_ been there for you, no matter how much of a brat you acted like."

His words were poison darts: fast, deadly, and right on target.

"Stop the car," she said.

"What? No. We're 10 miles from Dillon. What are you going to do? Walk home?" Matt looked at her like she was crazy.

"Stop. The. Car. Now, Matt, I mean it."

He spotted the neon sign of a gas station about a quarter of a mile up the road. He sped up and then sharply whipped over into the edge of its parking lot, tapping the brakes much more crisply than was necessary.

"Julie, look, I'll take you home, you don't hafta be ridiculous about this."

"I'm not being ridiculous," she said, throwing the door open and stepping out of the car.

"How are you going to get home?"

"That's not your problem any more. Get out of here, Matt. Just leave me alone." She was angry enough that any minute, she was going to burst into tears and she didn't want to let him see that. She slammed the door and stalked away. She held a dim shred of hope that he would get out of the car, follow her and try to make things right. So she was crushed when she heard the squeal of tires as he drove away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

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Tim had no idea why Julie needed him to pick her up at the gas station out on Route 5, but he wasn't going to waste time asking a bunch of questions. He said he'd see her in 20 minutes and managed to make it there in 12.

He pulled into the lot and spotted her right away, leaning against the plate glass window out front, her arms crossed tight and her shoulders hunched. She started moving as soon as she saw his truck and barely waited long enough for him to stop before she'd pulled open the door and scrambled up into the seat.

"Are you okay?" he asked, searching her face for clues, even as part of him really wanted to look at her legs. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen her wearing a skirt before.

She shrugged and then nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for coming to get me."

"No worries," he replied as he pulled onto the road, headed back toward Dillon. He waited for about thirty seconds and then asked her if she wanted to talk about it.

Julie shook her head.

"So, uh....where do you want to go?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. I know that I don't want to go home." She rested her elbow on the door and propped her head on her hand.

"Well, that leaves a lot of options."

"I don't want to go anywhere where there's people."

"Okay, that narrows it down a lot. How about my place?"

"What about Herc?" asked Julie, glancing over at him.

"He's at a training camp in Albuquerque for the next three weeks."

"Oh, good. Your place would be great," she said, mustering up a closed-mouth smile that didn't come close to reaching her eyes. "Unless, I mean, you don't have any other plans or anything? I don't want to put you out any."

"Nah, Taylor, it's fine. I was just relaxing at home tonight. No plans."

"I haven't really seen you since the summer. How you been?" she asked.

"Fine."

"What are you doing now?"

"Still working for Billy." he said without much enthusiasm.

"Yeah? How's that working out for you?" she asked.

Tim shrugged. "It's fine, you know....It's just that fixing other people's cars isn't anything at all like fixing your own. There's way more talking involved than I expected. And....well.....working with Billy is different than I thought it'd be."

"The fantasy doesn't live up to the reality?" she asked.

"No, it does not."

"Do you have any other plans?" she asked.

The ghost of a smile flickered on his face and he looked across the seat at her.

"I'm sorry, that's probably none of my business."

"No, that's not it at all," said Tim. "It's just, well, I'm taking a carpentry class at Dillon Tech."

"For real?"

"Yeah. It's going pretty good. I enjoy it so far. It's not the full apprentice thing or anything that's going to lead to a qualification, it's more just to try it out and see what I think."

"That's great. I really hope it works out for you," she said, her voice all sincerity.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Tim keeping his eyes on the road and Julie staring out the side window. The quiet lasted until they reached Tim's place.

He pulled into the driveway and put the truck in park. He was about to get out when he noticed that Julie seemed to be hiding her tears. He twisted slightly so his back was against the door and he could look at her directly. He put his arm up along the back of the seat.

"Taylor?" he asked gently. It was all the invitation she needed. She slid across and settled against him, resting her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and wished there was something he could to make her feel better. He rubbed her shoulder with one hand and let the other tangle in her silky hair.

He sat still and waited for her to calm down. His mind wandered a little and ended up turning down a surprising blind alley. He suddenly found himself thinking of Julie and Lyla and the difference between them.

Lyla.....Lyla was sugar-coated softness with hidden razor blades that he was always cutting himself on. Julie was all barbed wire, sharp corners, prickly humor and warning signs on the outside. But once you got past all that, once she let you through the secret gate, it was all softness and light, a core of true, gentle sweetness that wasn't just for show.

It was like that dumb joke Landry had taught him once when they were studying for a Biology final. What's the difference between an endoskeleton and an exoskeleton? An endoskeleton goes squish-crunch and an exoskeleton goes crunch-squish. Julie was definitely a case of crunch-squish. He wondered if Seven even know how much he'd hurt her, if she ever let him see it.

Tim didn't know how long they sat there like that, his shirt steadily growing damp from her tears. Eventually, when the crying had subsided somewhat, she started to talk, a stream of words that were muffled against his chest. He got the general idea. Trouble with Seven, something to do with him being unreasonable and resentful and taking it out on her.

"I'm sorry," she said, pulling away from him, sniffling. "I've cried all over you."

"No worries, Taylor. It's a completely different experience to have a woman cry and know it's not your fault," he said.

She gave him a weak smile.

"C'mon, I think I got something that'll take your mind off things," he said, partially regretting the statement when he heard how it sounded out loud. He got out of the truck and held out a hand to help her down. He opened the door to the apartment and let her walk in first.

"Do you ever lock your door?" she asked as she looked around, blinking in the dim light.

"Sometimes," he shrugged. "I'm going to change my shirt real quick."

"OK, um, where's the bathroom?"

He directed her to the second door on the left and then went into his room. He pulled off his shirt and dropped it on the bed, then looked around for a clean shirt. Unable to find a button-down replacement, he settled for a Panthers Football t-shirt. He went over to his closet and pulled out one of his football sweatshirts.

Back in the living room, he found Julie looking at Herc's trophies.

"Here, Taylor, you might need this. Herc doesn't believe in turning on the heat until you can see your breath, which pretty much guarantees it's never on." He handed her the sweatshirt and watched as she put it on.

"Thanks, so, what do you have in mind?"

Tim gestured to a bunch of plastic instruments piled in the corner. "_Rock Band 2_ – only the best waste of time ever invented."

"_Rock Band 2_?"

"Trust me," he said, smiling.

"Okay. What do you usually play?" she asked as he signed in and created the necessary accounts.

"Guitar," he answered without taking his eyes off the screen.

"I woulda thought you'd be all about the drums."

"I would, but Herc can't manage the guitar and I _don't_ sing, so...." he said with a shrug.

"What's easiest?"

"Singing, probably, if you can sing at all."

"Oh, I don't know. I don't usually like to sing in front of people," said Julie, fidgeting.

"Well, I'm not _people_, Taylor. Besides, I know you've got a decent voice. You sing in the shower." He looked over and wondered if it was wrong to enjoy her blushing.

A short time later, Julie was set up with a blue-haired punk rocker called Jules and had run through the tutorial for singing.

"You ready," he asked as he added her to his band.

"The Panthers," she said. "Very original. It take you long to come up with that?"

He sighed and gave her an impatient, tight-lipped smile. "Are you ready?"

"Yes...no....wait. I don't like my clothes. Can I change them? I mean, my avatar's clothes," she added quickly, having apparently caught the smirk on Tim's face.

He nodded, took the control from her and navigated to the right spot. "Here, you get yourself dressed there. I'm going to get a few beers."

When he returned, 'Jules' was outfitted in a short blue plaid skirt, a powder blue shirt and matching combat boots.

"Awesome. You ready now?" he asked, setting a beer down in front of her before sitting down with his own beer at the other end of the couch.

They started with some of the easier songs until Julie got used to singing. She seemed to be enjoying it and she did have a decent voice. Tim, at least, was enjoying listening to her.

"You ready for something a bit more challenging now, Taylor?" he asked.

"Always," she said.

He selected a 3 Song Mystery Set and settled back to see what they would get. The first song was from the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs: "Maps".

Julie rolled through it without any trouble. "I thought this set was supposed to be challenging," she scoffed.

"We're one song in, Taylor. Plenty more game left to play. Don't go getting cocky."

The next song was "Black", Pearl Jam. Julie did fine until the words stopped and Eddie Vedder made an endless series of yeahs, woos, and doo-doo-doos. Julie struggled with those and Tim could sense her enthusiasm waning. She sank deeper and deeper into the couch, slouching until it looked like she didn't have a bone in her body.

"Why can't he just stop when the words are done? Why does he have to carry on like that?" complained Julie.

Tim smiled. "I don't know. But you might sing better if you sit up straight and get some air in your lungs."

Julie stuck her tongue out at him before turning her attention back to the screen. As the Foo Fighters' song "Everlong" started, she squealed and jumped off the couch.

"This is one of my favorite songs ever!" she said, dancing around in place in front of the couch. Tim tried to keep his eyes on the screen, since the song was beyond challenging, but Julie's swaying hips and swinging arms were distracting him. When he came to the guitar solo, she dropped the microphone and began twirling around in the room, arms over her head, hair flying, lost in the music.

As the guitar solo wound down, she spun her way back to the microphone and finished the song, laughing as she kept getting tangled up in the microphone cord. Giggling and breathless, she collapsed on the couch next him. She leaned against him, rested her head against his shoulder and looked up at him with the first genuine smile he'd seen from her all night.

"You were right," she said.

"About what?"

"About this being exactly what I needed," she replied, gesturing vaguely around the room.

He took "this" to mean the game and having a chance to relax and be silly, although he wished it meant more. He wished she'd meant being with him.

Julie's eyes flickered to the screen and Tim was nearly relieved to look away. Looking down into her flushed face had been starting to feel like staring into the sun.

"Look at that, Riggins, 98% I got Serious Skills!" She jumped up and did a little victory dance, then returned to her spot at the opposite end of the couch.

He smiled and tried not to show his disappointment.

"I thought I saw some Alanis Morrisette on there. Could we do that one?" she asked. "That's definitely what I need – angry, shouting chick music. Perfect."

--- ---- ---- ---- --- --- ---- ---- ---- --- --- ---- ---- ---- --- --- ---- ---- ---- ---

Three hours later, Julie was nearly hoarse and had to reluctantly concede that she should be getting home soon.

"But can we do one last song? Please?" she asked, wearing Tim down with those hopeful eyes.

He nodded and wasn't at all surprised when she insisted on "Everlong". He found the gig where it was a single song on the menu and set his mind to keeping his focus on the screen.

He was doing well, until near the end of the song when he realized Julie had slowed down with her spinning and he could feel her eyes on him. He glanced over at her and it was like she was singing right to him.

"_And I wonder_

_If everything could ever feel this real_

_forever_

_If anything could ever be this good again_

_The only thing I'll ever ask of you_

_You got to promise not to stop_

_When I say when..._"

Then she was off again, spinning and laughing and nearly tripping over the coffee table.

When the song was over, Tim put down the guitar and stood up. "Okay, Taylor, let's get you home before you turn into a pumpkin."

--- ---- ---- ---- --- --- ---- ---- ---- --- --- ---- ---- ---- --- --- ---- ---- ---- --- --- ---- ---- ---- ---

He drove her home in silence, smiling to himself as he listened to her humming quietly. He was nearing the corner where he'd have to turn onto her street when she grabbed his arm and told him to stop. He did and looked at her, puzzled.

She nodded her head in the direction of her house and he looked out. At first, he wasn't sure what he was looking for, but then he saw it: Seven's car, parked in the street across from her house, a hunched figure barely visible behind the wheel.

"What, is he stalking you or something?" asked Tim.

Julie shook her head emphatically, her hair ending up mostly piled over one shoulder. "No. I've had my phone turned off and he doesn't like to go to bed angry. It's kind of like a rule or something with him."

"It's probably none of my business, but what did you fight about, exactly, anyway?" Tim asked.

Julie gave him a wry smile. "Bumper stickers."

"Bumper stickers?"

She waved her hand. "You know how it is. Sometimes, what you're fighting about isn't really what you're fighting about at all."

"Yeah," he said, a world of understanding tied up in that single word. He went to put the truck back in gear.

"Wait....um....I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but would you mind just letting me out here? It might be too.....complicated otherwise," she said apologetically.

Tim pressed his lips tightly together and forced a smile. "Sure, Taylor, no worries."

"Thank you. For picking me up and everything," she said as she climbed out. She closed the door and walked around in front of the truck. As she passed through the glare of his headlights, Tim realized his last name was on the back of the sweatshirt.

He briefly considered just letting her go, but sighed, rolled down the window and called her back. She came over and rested her elbows on the windows.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"You might want to give me back my sweatshirt, if you're trying not to complicate things," he said, pointing to the #33, which was embroidered just above the heart.

"Oh, right." She pulled on the sleeves and carefully wriggled out of the sweatshirt, then dropped it in his lap.

He looked down at it, not sure what, if anything, he should say to her.

"Tim?" she said.

"Yeah?" He looked up, his hair still partially hanging in his face. She reached out and brushed his hair behind his ear. He could have sworn that her fingers lingered a little, caressing his cheek, but maybe it was just wishful thinking.

"Thank you." Her smile was sincere, her voice was warm, and her eyes.....he wasn't quite sure what her eyes were doing, but he knew that he didn't want them to stop.

"You're welcome." His hand slid off its perch on the ledge of the window and reached out toward her, but then the thought of how she had cried stopped him as effectively as a forcefield.

The moment hung in the air and then passed. She gave him a little wave and walked away.

He killed the lights, reversed the truck into a nearby driveway and then turned off the engine. He rested his elbow on the door and pressed his mouth against his fist as he watched Julie cross the street and walk over toward Seven's car.

Seven got out, hands in his pocket and his head down. Julie stopped a few feet away from him and stood with her arms crossed. Seven looked up at her. Tim couldn't see the expression on his face, but he could imagine it – an earnest choirboy. He could equally imagine Julie's face as she accepted his apology.

Julie held out a little longer than Tim expected she would. But soon enough, Matt held out his arms and Julie stepped up to him, pressing his face against his shoulder. Tim started up his truck and drove away, trying not to think about how he'd been there, just a few hours before.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

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_Mid-November_

Julie was driving home from the library, singing along with the radio, in very good spirits. Her parents and Gracie were gone for the weekend, visiting some second-cousin or someone in Plano. She'd used the excuse of a term paper to escape the trip, then secretly finished the paper early, so she had an empty house and nothing to do for an entire blissful weekend.

She'd just run out to the library to pick up some entertainment: the BBC's _Pride and Prejudice_ mini-series and Henry Miller's _The Tropic of Cancer. _The last time Julie had tried to read the book, her mother had confiscated it. She knew that spending a parent-free weekend reading a book, even a famously smutty book, qualified her as a major league dork, but she didn't care.

She hadn't felt much like going out or partying lately. She hadn't even felt like putting any effort into her appearance, since her chances of seeing anyone she knew at the library were low. She was wearing her favorite comfort clothes: a green pair of yoga pants and her softest cotton t-shirt, which happened to be canary yellow.

The sound from the radio started to waver and Julie looked down at the dashboard, where she saw the battery light was flickering again. She gave the dashboard a good thump, which had seemed to work the last couple of times she did it. The car had been acting strange for about two weeks, but not in any predictable manner. It was sluggish at times or the windshield wipers seemed to be out of synch. The battery light flickered and once, the check engine light came on. She knew she should get it looked at, but she didn't want to be without a car. So she kept putting it off, telling herself it was mostly her imagination.

The radio cut out entirely and she looked down at the dashboard. The battery light was blazing a stern warning and she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. Then the engine cut out and she was just coasting.

She looked over her shoulder and manoeuvred the car over to the curb. After a big sigh and a fervent wish that the car was fine, she turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. She couldn't coax even the faintest half-splutter out of it. She fumbled around until she found the hood release and pulled it, then got out of the car.

It took her a few minutes to open the hood. She knew her dad had showed her how it was done. But she hadn't really been paying attention at the time. She wanted to drive the car, after all. She had absolutely no interest in fixing or maintaining it or even knowing at all how it worked. It could have been magic, for all she cared, as long as it was able to get her from Point A to Point B.

Julie's fingers finally stumbled on the latch that released the hood and she lifted it up. It took another few seconds to find the metal rod that would prop the hood open. Then Julie put her hands on her hips and looked at the engine like she was expecting to see a "Fix Me" sign on the broken part. She wasn't sure what she was thinking, opening the hood, except that it was what people seemed to do when their cars broke down.

She opened the passenger door and took out her phone out of her purse. Leaning against the side of the car, she thumbed through her contacts list. Since she was only a two-minute walk from his house, Tim was the most obvious choice, but she didn't want to bother him. She was painfully aware that she called on him for a rescue the last time she was in trouble and she didn't want to abuse his good nature. Matt was out of the question. Landry wasn't talking to her. Lois and all of her girlfriends had car IQs that matched her own.

Julie was trying to figure out how to find the number for a tow truck when one pulled up next to her. At first, she felt like her prayers had been answered. She watched the guy climb out of the truck and walk toward her, hitching his pants up. With his scruffy beard, scraggly ponytail and worn leather jacket, he looked like a reject from the Hell's Angels.

"Hi there, darlin', looks like you could use some help," said the guy, stepping up and standing a little too close to her. She took a step back and could see that he definitely wasn't looking her in the eye.

"Oh, no, that's okay. I've already called someone and they're on their way, so I'm fine. Thanks anyway," she said with a fake smile. She gave him a big wave, hoping he'd get the hint and leave.

But either he wasn't that smart or she wasn't that lucky. "Well then, how do you know that the someone isn't me?"

"My boyfriend....he's a mechanic so he's going to take care of it. In fact, he just lives right around the corner from here, so, you know I can just walk over there," she said, scurrying forward to close the hood. She collected her book and DVD set from the car and set off towards Tim's apartment.

She'd hoped that would be the end of it, but the guy just turned his truck around and pulled up to the curb next to her, talking to her as she walked.

"He's a mechanic, huh? In Dillon? I bet I know him. Gary? Russ? Or maybe it's Carl?"

Julie ignored him and kept walking.

"Or maybe," he said with a predatory grin, "you don't have a boyfriend at all."

Julie hoped that she didn't look as nervous as she felt. "It's Tim, actually."

"Tim Riggins? Well why didn't you say so sooner, darlin? Me and Riggs, we're old friends. We go way back. He used to live with a friend of mine. I'm sure he'd want his old buddy to look after his gal. Why don't you get in the truck and I'll give you a lift to his place?"

"That's fine. I'm nearly there," said Julie as she lengthened her stride and picked up her pace as much as she could without breaking into a run. She tried to remember the self-defense lecture they had in gym class a few years ago, but all she could remember was Tyra rolling her eyes and muttering "_Please_. Just kick him in the balls and run like hell."

Julie turned the corner and looked at Tim's place, practically willing him to be there. She was relieved when she saw his truck in the driveway and the garage door open. She abandoned all pretense of coolness and sprinted across the lawns to reach his place before the truck did.

Tim sauntered out of the garage just as Julie reached the edge of his yard.

"Taylor?" he asked, surprised but pleased.

She quickly covered the space between them and practically tackled him.

"Whoa, Taylor, not like I'm not happy to see you but what the hell is going on?"

Julie talked as fast as she could, the words spilling out of her mouth in one hyper run-on sentence. "I'll explain later car broke down creepy guy tried to help I told him you're my boyfriend please just make him go away."

Tim looked over the top of her head. Julie stepped back from him and watched him recognize the tow truck driver.

"Petey," he said softly. "Shit. Yeah, I know him."

Tim raised his hand in greeting, but his eyes were hard. "Stay here, Taylor. I'll take care of it."

Julie stepped back and watched him walk down to the street, where the truck was idling. They had a brief conversation that Julie couldn't hear over the truck engine, and then Tim walked back, relief evident on his face.

"You okay?" he asked.

Julie nodded.

"Want to tell me what's going on?"

Julie explained to him about her parents being out of town, the car breaking down, the guy pulling up and making her uncomfortable, and then her decision to come to his place.

"You shoulda just called me as soon as the car quit on you," said Tim, raking his hand through his hair.

Julie fidgeted and looked down. "Yeah, well, I did that the last time I was in trouble. I didn't want to be one of those friends you only hear from when they need something."

She wasn't sure why they hadn't talked or seen each other since the night he'd picked her up from the gas station on Route 5. She's thought about calling him several times, but something had always held her back.

Tim shook his head. "Nay, Taylor, I know it's not like that."

"Well, I'm sorry for the drama," she said.

"No worries, you got good instincts."

Julie smiled and looked around, noticing her surroundings for the first time. Tim had spread newspaper on the ground and was in the process of staining a small end table. It had a sort of triangular top, but with rounded lines, three curvy legs, and a triangular base. He was staining it a deep mahogany, which looked especially good in the late autumn sunlight.

"Did you make that?" she asked, gesturing at the table.

"Yeah, it's my final project for that class I'm taking."

"It's art nouveau, isn't it?" she asked, wanting to run her fingers along the rounded edges.

Tim shrugged. "I don't know. I just looked through a bunch of books in the school library until I saw a picture I liked."

"Tim, it's beautiful," she said, feeling like that didn't even begin to describe the table's delicate, deliberate grace.

"Thanks," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking down, a curtain of hair nearly hiding his small, proud smile.

"So, uh, I don't want to interrupt you or anything," said Julie.

"You're fine. You want me to give you a ride home?" asked Tim. "Or, you could hang out here for as long as you want. It's up to you, really."

"Well," she said, looking up at him through her bangs, "I was kind of hoping we could maybe play some Rock Band."

"Were you? I think that can be arranged. Are you in a hurry? Got a hot date for tonight or anything?"

Julie smiled and shook her head.

"Good. You mind if I finish this up first? I need to get one more coat applied and I was hoping to have it done before sunset."

"That's fine. I can hang out, whereever. I won't bother you – I got a book to read," she said, holding it up.

Tim plucked it out of her hands. "_Tropic of Cancer_. Henry Miller.....That's not the Henry from _Henry and June_, is it?"

"It is," said Julie.

"I don't know, then, Taylor. Maybe I should read the book first and make sure it's appropriate for you." He dangled the book just out of her reach.

"You could read it out loud to me," she said, then wondered where the hell that had come from.

Tim smirked. "No, how about you read it out loud to me while I finish my project?"

"How about if I just talk to you instead?" asked Julie, stepping into the garage and pulling out a lawn chair. She set it down in a sunny spot near the table and then sat down.

Tim dropped the book in her lap. "That sounds like a plan. Why don't you start by telling me more about your car breaking down. Maybe I can figure out what it needs."

"I don't know. The radio got quiet, the battery light came on and then the engine stopped and I couldn't start it again."

"Any noises or anything?"

"No. Of course, I did have the radio up pretty loud before that, so I would've missed any noises. But it had been acting like....possessed for at least a week or two."

"Possessed?" asked Tim as he levered the lid off of a can of wood varnish.

"Yeah. Like the battery light would flicker and the windshield wipers would go all crazy and the headlights would dim and then go bright. Like something out of a horror movie."

"Two weeks and it never occurred to you to ask me to look at it? Or even tell anyone what was going on with it?"

Julie shrugged. "Sometimes, when I hit the dashboard, it would work fine again. I figured the car was just quirky. Do you know what's wrong with it?"

"Sounds like it needs a new alternator. I can have someone tow it to the garage and I can fix it for you tomorrow, if you need to have it done before your parents get back." He made the offer without looking up at her, his head bent over his table as he applied another coat of mahogany stain.

"Thanks, I'd really appreciate that," she said quickly, wanting to say more but not quite trusting her mouth to form the words properly.

Something about watching him work on that amazing table, knowing he'd made it, and having him try to take care of her problem – it was all causing a big, strange jumble of feelings inside of her that she didn't know how to sort out.

"How's Seven," he asked casually, after several minutes of companionable silence.

"Oh, we broke up."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said.

"No, that's okay," she replied, waving away his condolence. "It was time. I _so_ didn't want to be one of those couples who keep breaking up and then getting back together again."

Tim looked up from his work and nodded. "I've been there before. More times than I'd like to admit, to be honest with you."

"Yeah. You know, I should have broken up with him after the stupid bumper sticker fight, but we lasted another two week. We had to fight about a parking place, his grandmother's Snackwells and the closing time at Seven Senoritas before I realized that we'd become a lost cause."

"Sometimes it's hard to let go," said Tim as he stood up. "Let me put this stuff away and rinse out the brush and then I'll be done here."

"Take your time," said Julie, opening up her book even though she doubted she'd be able to concentrate on it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Tim held the door open for Julie and then followed her into his place.

"So, are you hungry?" he asked.

She thought about it for a second. "You know, I am. I just realized I skipped lunch."

"Yeah, me too. How's pizza sound? I was planning on making one tonight."

"Like from a box?" she asked.

He smiled. "No, like from scratch."

She tilted her head and looked at him skeptically. "You know how to make pizza from scratch?"

"It's pizza, Taylor, not rocket science or open-heart surgery. Don't look so surprised."

"OK, I'll give it a try. I just can't believe you know how to make homemade pizza."

"Yeah, I suppose I don't seem the type, but Herc inherited all of these kitchen appliances from his mom and it's like using power tools for cooking."

"Power tools for cooking?" asked Julie.

"Yeah. The Kitchen Aid's my favorite. You wouldn't believe the things you can do with it. And it's a beautiful piece of machinery – older than both of us combined and still working like it's brand new. Whoever designed that knew what he was doing."

Julie snickered.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing.....It's just.....I never thought I'd hear 'Big Tim Riggins' extolling the virtues of a kitchen appliance. You sounded like a 1950s housewife in a commercial or something." She smiled and he couldn't help but smile back. He knew she was just messing with him.

He went back to his room to change his shirt, relieved that he'd just done the laundry the day before. In his bathroom, he washed his face and hands. He leaned over the sink and looked at his reflection in the mirror.

"Relax," he told himself. "It's just two friends hanging out. Nothing more, nothing less."

He sighed and wondered when he'd lost his talent for lying to himself. Then he shook it off and went back out to the kitchen, where Julie was waiting for him.

"Can I do anything to help?" she asked as he started to take ingredients out of the cupboards. He emptied a packet of yeast into a measuring cup, added a spoonful of sugar, filled it with warm water and then covered it with a clean dish towel.

"Nah, just keep me company," he replied, as he dumped two cups of flour into the Kitchen Aid's big silver bowl. He added a bit of olive oil and a dash of salt.

Julie paced around the kitchen, watching him work. Ten minutes later, the water concoction had made its way into the bowl and the Kitchen Aid was proving its worth. When the dough was fully mixed and kneaded, Tim covered it with a towel and put it aside to rise.

He pulled out a cutting board and a knife and set them on the counter. Then he opened the refrigerator and looked back at Julie.

"What do you like on your pizza?"

She shrugged. "Most normal things, I guess. What do you usually have?"

"Pepperoni, black olives, and onions," he said.

"That sounds good."

"You know you don't have to have the same thing, right? I have tomatoes, peppers, garlic....I think we even have a can of pineapple somewhere."

Julie laughed. "No, really, I like all three of those toppings. It's fine."

The olives were easy, since they came pre-sliced in a can. Tim sliced the pepperoni next. Julie, apparently tired of pacing the small kitchen came over and pulled herself up onto the counter next to him. Her legs dangled down and she swung them lazily. Tim had to remind himself to focus on what he was doing.

"What about the sauce?" asked Julie.

"Oh, yeah. I cut corners there and just use spaghetti sauce."

"That's a relief," joked Julie. "I was starting to get worried that you'd become entirely too domesticated. It's good to know you're still a guy."

He smiled at her. "I'm still a guy."

Tim put the pepperoni slices into a bowl and then picked up the onion. He cut off one end of it and peeled back the skin, then began to cut it in thin slices. The onion was quite fresh and it was only a matter of second before his eyes were stinging. He put down the knife and pushed the cutting board away, looking toward Julie and blinking his eyes.

"It's okay, Tim. Have a good cry. Better out than in, that's my motto," she said with a grin.

Tim gripped the edge of the counter and shook his head.

Julie sidled closer to him and giggled. "You can cry on my shoulder. I owe you one, after the last time I was here."

He bent his head until his forehead was lightly resting on her shoulder. He breathed in her perfume, an intoxicating mixture of flowers and vanilla.

Tim realized there was nothing to hold him back this time. No Seven. No Lyla. No Coach. Nothing. He felt nervous, almost shy.

He thought about the time they'd spent together over the last two years. All that time spent just talking. He reckoned he'd probably talked more to her than to anyone in his life, even Six.

All those words. That's what she'd given him. An understanding of and appreciation for words. All those books she'd left at his house had built a bridge between them. They'd given him the compass and map that he'd needed to find his way to her.

He thought about the scrap of paper that was in his wallet, safely tucked behind his driver's license. It was folded in fourths and had been opened and refolded so many times, the edges had gone soft and were starting to wear away. He pictured his cramped handwriting. He focused on the words, trying to remember each one exactly. Because he had waited so long for this moment. He wanted it to be perfect and he knew that he only had one chance to get it right.

Tim turned his head slightly, letting his lips nearly brush her neck. He took a deep breath and whispered in her ear, his voice deep and rumbling.

"_The day came_

_When the risk to remain_

_Tight in a bud_

_Was more painful than_

_The risk it took to blossom._"

He held his breath, muscles tensing, unsure of her reaction. He felt her hands on his chest before they traveled up around his neck as she pulled him close and kissed him. It was a deep, searing, aching kiss with days of longing and hope behind it.

Julie pulled back abruptly and looked at him, her eyes simultaneously asking and answering unspoken questions. Then she was falling back into him, kissing him like he was oxygen and she was drowning. She twisted slightly and pulled him over so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

He picked her up easily and carried her back to his room. He knew that later, she would ask him how he knew about the poem. He knew that he would take out his wallet, hand over the small paper square and watch her unfold it. He could picture the understanding flickering on her face.

He knew that this was probably not practical. That in six or eight months, she'd move away and he'd be left behind again. But right now, that didn't matter. Right now, he was going to enjoy her lips. Right now, he was going to put his hands on her body and feel her soft, hot skin. Right now, he was finally going to talk to her without words.

He'd waited a long time to make this particular memory and he was damn sure that he would have no regrets.

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**Author's Note:** So, that's the end of it then. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writting it. Thank you for all the reviews. I hope you'll let me know if the ending lived up to your expectations.

Not sure what's up next for me, except that I have to work on my book. (Yeah, I know I said that last time, but this time I mean it and I'm going to stay away from addictive serial stories. :)) I'd like to try to stretch my skills a little - maybe try to write a story in the second person or maybe try some smut. (Although I'm probably too shy for that - you can take the girl out of Catholic school but you can't take the Catholic school out of the girl.)


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